


Blueprints of the Heart

by noexiiistence



Series: The Road to Recovery [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Just so much insecurities, M/M, Trans!Haurchefant, featuring: The Haillenarte quick flaring and quick dying temper, long standing misunderstandings, sensual hand kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noexiiistence/pseuds/noexiiistence
Summary: Haurchefant knew he should be worried that Stephanivien never asked him why he wanted to hide their relationship. But after so long, he thought he simply knew. [takes place a few days after Something To Live For]
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Stephanivien de Haillenarte
Series: The Road to Recovery [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716850
Kudos: 8
Collections: Everybody Lives AU





	1. Chapter 1

There was something relaxing about watching Stephanivien work. Their world was being overturned, their history outed as a lie and Haurchefant spent most of his time trying to figure out what this meant for Dragonhead, but Stephanivien’s work continued on as normal. He had  _ always _ operated under the assumption that all were equal and was now all but being rewarded for her persistence in that belief. So it was calming to see that Stephanivien continued on as normal, a single constant, while his mind reeled trying to figure out everything in Ishgard that needed to be adjusted.

And, there was something freeing about finally spending time with him when everyone  _ knew _ they were together. Of course, the manufactory had guessed and they weren’t doing anything telling now, but the fact that he  _ could _ felt nice.

His thoughts are interrupted slightly, as Stephanivien stops his work for a moment, one hand reaching out and brushing a stray hair from Haurchefant’s face. He hums and leans idly into the touch, turning his gaze to Stephanivien’s to see all the love and affection in his gaze.

“I am glad you are no longer to ashamed for anyone else to know, my heart.” Stephanivien’s voice is gentle and loving and Haurchefant, still half lost in his own thoughts, almost misses what he  _ said _ , simply humming again in reply for a moment. And then the words register.

“Wait-” he says, blinking, trying to chase away the thoughts of Dragonhead and Ishgard’s future for the moment. “You think I was ashamed?”

“Well, but of course, my heart.” Stephanivien responds easily, hand still resting on Haurchefant’s cheek. “And why should it not be so? My family was as well and I am far from  _ typical  _ for one of my status.”

“No- but-” Haurchefant pulls his face from Stephanivien’s hand with a frown. “I was never ashamed, my sun. How could I be? You have all but made me who I am. The secrecy was never about that.”

“Then what was it about?” Stephanivien asks, dropping his hand with a confused frown.

Haurchefant takes a deep breath. He had realized when his father asked  _ why _ they had kept the secret, that it was odd Stephanivien had never asked the same question. He had always known Stephanivien would never have allowed it for the reasons he had, but he had never been  _ asked _ . Not until now. He braces himself for Stephanivien’s reaction, with the weight of sixteen years behind it before he answers.

“I am a bastard,” he answers at length, averting his gaze. “You’re- you are the eldest born to your house. I did not wish to bring scandal or rumor to your House or name, not after all you and your family have done for me.”

“You-” Haurchefant can see Stephanivien’s ever quick temper rising in the set of his shoulders and the draw of his eyebrows and there’s a part of him that almost wants to smile.  _ Here _ was the reaction he had expected sixteen years ago. “You know I don’t care about that!”

“I know, my sun.” Haurchefant keeps his gaze down. Stephanivien deserved this anger and Haurchefant knew it wasn’t  _ truly _ directed at  _ him _ . He was simply the catalyst. Knowing such made it easier to let it wash over him- not  _ easy _ , never easy, not after Mirane, but easier. He was braced for it anyway.

“I have  _ never _ cared for my reputation! And what does it matter what anyone else thinks? Haurchefant it was  _ us _ ! It  _ is _ us! There has never been a single reason for which I would have wanted to hide this!”

“I thought to protect it for you. I thought- in the distant future I thought, perhaps….I do not know what I thought. Merely that it was important to protect you in the one way you would not protect yourself.” It’s all excuses, excuses from a fifteen year old Haurchefant scared and desperate, wanting to continue in the relationship that made him happier than all else but being terrified that, like most things, outside forces would tell him no, tell him he couldn’t. So instead he had denied  _ himself _ to the degree he could stand.

“I have never wanted the life of tradition! I thought it was clear that I wanted to declare it from the rooftops, consequences be damned!”

“It was,” Haurchefant’s reply comes quietly. He hadn’t meant to speak the words but they come unbidden anyway. They weren’t untrue- merely a bridge into the next part of the conversation, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared for  _ that _ .

“Then  _ why?” _ Stephanivien asks incredulously and Haurchefant looks up from his lap towards his lover once more, taking in him in all of his anger and passionate glory. Can still see the love underneath, can see the pain the already dwindling anger comes from. And he knows his next reply will take the rest of the wind from it’s sails.

“Because I was scared,” he answers truthfully. “My whole life I was told I was not allowed the things I enjoyed, the things that made me happy or comfortable. I was to be a pawn for Mirane’s ire and a foil for Artoirel’s greatness. When I had something in my grasp that made me happy I desired to protect it. To protect you. And the best way to do that was to allow no one to know.” His gaze drops again, feeling for the first time in years the shame he had felt but constantly while under his step-mother’s thumb. He hadn’t realized he was still carrying it on his shoulders, much less in this. But when Stephanivien’s hand gently grips his face again, it feels like a blessing, the weight easing.

“They were  _ wrong _ , my heart.” Stephanivien says with feeling, as Haurchefant looks back up at him. “They have always been so. Why! Look at the times! Even our history has been wrong. They always doubted you, second-guessed you, kept you down in an effort to silence you. But they were wrong. We could have shown them.”

Haurchefant gently takes Stephanivien’s wrist in his hand and presses a kiss to his lover’s still gloved palm. “We can show them now, my sun. I apologize. For all of it. Truly, I do.” He leans into the touch still lingering on his cheek and closes his eyes. “When my father asked why we had stayed hidden and I realized you have never asked the same I- I had thought you knew my reasons and that I was unlikely to move from them. However, Stephanivien, we had broken up once. I lost you once. And still I could not.” He sighs. “I kept us hidden for shame of myself. I have never felt anything save pride for you.”

“Pride?” Haurchefant hears the confusion in Stephanivien’s voice and he blinks his eyes open again to see the same confusion written on his face.

Haurchefant nods. “You have never done anything by halves. You have loved with every ilm of your being and even your anger never lingers. You are quick to forgive and even quicker to validate. From the off you have accepted me for who I was needing only my word of it and nothing else and I loved you then. Even when I was terrified of my own father’s ire I was proud of your determination. As a child I followed where you lead and I have learned to lead through you. I have become the man I am and love because of you and your pride. I do not know how I could ever feel anything  _ but _ pride for you, my sun. It comes as easily as breathing, as loving.”

“Oh.” The word is mostly breath and almost underwhelming if it were not for the tears being blinked back. Haurchefant lets his hand go, watching as Stephanivien withdraws it carefully, setting both hands in his lap.

“I have always been proud of you here at the manufactory most of all,” Haurchefant continues. “There is a reason they all love you here. You are married to this more than even law could tie you to me and I would ask for nothing more. I have nothing but pride for your work, for your efforts to help those born in the Brume, your efforts to help Ishgard as a whole.” Haurchefant reaches out his own hand this time, tucking stray hairs back into Stephanivien’s bandanna. “But this is not the place for this conversation. Come home tonight? We can continue it then. And I would love another night in your arms before I return to my post.”

“Very well,” Stephanivien agrees, wiping away a tear that escaped. “I will be there.”

“Good,” Haurchefant replies, standing and kissing Stephanivien’s forehead. “I will await you then.”


	2. Chapter 2

Haurchefant finds himself anxious as the day passes and it nears the time Stephanivien’s like to return home- with Joye most likely, as she like as not heard some of their earlier conversation and knew it needful. Anxious, but he was out of things to do, much less in the short time he had left, knowing well that if he was not already here when Stephanivien returned, he was like to find the other asleep when he did arrive. So, instead, he paces his lover’s room, as well known to him as his own, and pokes at half assembled ideas and prototypes that clutter the space. Stephanivien was ever incapable of not working, such a wonderful brain behind all of his ideas, all of his improvements.

And he had thought Haurchefant ashamed! The thought still doesn’t sit right with him and he doesn’t think it ever will. Uncertain whether he dislikes most the idea that he could be ashamed of Stephanivien when there had been no sign of such in their entire childhood together, or that Stephanivien stayed in the relationship anyway. Resigned to the fact this was the best he could do. Both thoughts were nigh unbearable and he had spent much of his time between the revelation and now on the training field to try to give vent to his frustration at himself for it. Because, truly, whose fault was it, save his own?

He’s glancing through the blueprints on the desk- as though he can even understand them fully- when the door opens behind him. Carefully, he replaces the parchment on the desk and turns to look at Stephanivien as he closes the door behind him again. “My sun,” he greets with a smile. This conversation is not like to be easy, not for either of them. But it needs to be had, to clear the air and dispel any lingering misunderstandings.

“My heart,” Stephanivien replies easily, his own soft smile matching Haurchefant’s.

After a moment of simply smiling at each other, Haurchefant moves to the bed and sits on it, patting it beside him to indicate that Stephanivien should follow suit. He does, as Haurchefant pulls off his boots, leaving them on the floor, pulling one leg up on the bed to turn to face the other fully. This is not a conversation for averted gazes or half eye contact. He needs Stephanivien to believe every word he spoke.

Now that they’re here, though, Haurchefant’s uncertain how to start. “I should state again that never have I ever been ashamed of you. Not only is it a feeling I have never felt directed at another, I would not be able to remain friends with someone I found shameful, much less would I be able to date them. I know how it feels all too well and it is not one I would like to foster in any relationship of mine. I do quite apologize.”

“You needn’t apologize, ‘twas only a matter of course. My own father found my hobbies to be quite distasteful and has only changed his mind but recently.” Stephanivien replies, almost flippant, patting Haurchefant’s knee.

Carefully, Haurchefant catches his hand before he draws it back and peels off his glove. “Do you know why I love your hands so much?” he asks before pulling one of his own gloves off with his teeth to trace his lover’s hand with one of his own.

“I have never thought about it at great length,” comes the reply, Stephanivien watching as Haurchefant traces the lines of his exposed hand with feather light touches.

“They’re the soul of you,” he answers easily, one finger tracing slowly up Stephanivien’s thumb, glancing up at him briefly to gauge his reaction. “Everything you are, everything you do, can be told by your hands.”

He pulls the hand to his cheek, leaning into it. “You hold your heart here- and I do not only mean me.” He gives a small smile at his words before turning into Stephanivien’s hand and pressing a kiss into the heel of his palm. “You held my hand when we met, and many times after besides,” he murmurs as he presses another kiss to the inside of his palm. “I followed your lead by following your hands, even when I knew I should not, even as I tried to talk you and Aurvael out of a great many pranks, still, I followed you. Did as you do.”

Haurchefant lets out a soft breath before kissing a scar over the meat of Stephanivien’s thumb. “You remember how you got this one?” He asks with a hum.

“A- one of the machinists was fixing a turret and a belt snapped,” Stephanivien recalls obediently.

“Mhm,” Haurchefant hums his approval against the mark. “And you prevented them from getting injured themselves. And this one?” he asks, pressing another kiss into the tip of Stephanivien’s index finger.

“Sliced on sharp metal.”

“As a teen, yes, while you were learning. It’s a map.” Haurchefant breathes, kissing down the long finger. “A map of all you are. I would say like poetry but, perhaps you are better compared to a blueprint.” He runs his nose up Stephanivien’s middle finger now before gently catching the tip between his teeth for a moment before letting it go again so he could speak. “Every blemish, every burn and callus, is a story. A note on the parchment of a feature. This one,” he indicates by kissing a scar on the back of Stephanivien’s hand “shows a childhood of mischief, sliced on our first adventure together. And these,” he presses kisses into the calluses of Stephanivien’s fingertips “Show you are a hard worker. Even gloves will not soften your hands as you endeavor to hone your craft. For the betterment of Ishgard.”

Haurchefant’s eyes are hooded as he replaces the hand on his cheek before removing both of their other gloves, leaving both sets of hands bare. He brings Stephanivien’s other hand carefully up to his face as well, finding the exact scars he’s looking for almost without looking, having memorized every blemish. “These show your desire to protect. Me from my past, from what anyone would say, your employees from any mishap no matter how small.” He hums again. “They learn better as such anyway, if you have not noticed. To a man, they dislike seeing you hurt.” his lips turn to a grin. “Joye has even threatened me such.” He trails more kisses across Stephanivien’s hand, taking the moment to enjoy the sensation and to allow the other to process. Once done, he gently places both hands on either side of his face, his own gently encircling Stephanivien’s wrists. “Tell me, how am I supposed to be ashamed when reasons for little other than pride are marked on your body, on your hands, on your heart?”

Stephanivien has tears in his eyes and Haurchefant was expecting such, but the sight still moves him, still makes his heart ache. All these years and Stephanivien hadn’t known. Had merely thought this an odd quirk of his, had merely accepted a relationship with a man he thought was settling. There is an irony there, in knowing, now, they both thought themselves worth shame but continued on anyway. But Stephanivien was the one always chafing at the chains, the one never happy with it. He remembers the arguments they used to have, remembers the miserable three days they spent broken up and tries to imagine them from Stephanivien’s perspective. He can’t. He doesn’t want to. He vows, silently, to double down on making sure Stephanivien never again has cause to doubt.

“My heart.” The words are soft and thick with feeling.

“I have always been proud of you. I thought I conveyed such with my actions but I forget, at times, that you do not understand poetry, even should it not be verbal.” Stephanivien slides one hand into his hair and he allows it, letting go of his wrist. “Ishgard needs more of her citizens to follow your lead. Everything you do, you do with everything you are. Everything you love you love with your whole heart.” Stephanivien’s other hand slides down the column of his neck and rests on his shoulder as he pulls him in for a kiss.

Haurchefant’s eyes flutter closed and he tries to throw all of the pride he’s felt through the years into the kiss. He brings his own hands up to cup Stephanivien’s face and he feels the tears wetting his cheeks, wiping them gently with his thumbs. As the kiss continues, he allows his hands to slide down Stephanivien’s shoulders and torso, sliding all the way to his knees and gently pulling him into his lap, holding him close. Finally, the kiss breaks for air and Haurchefant rests their foreheads together gently. “Do you believe me?” he breathes into the space between them.

“Yes,” Stephanivien replies and Haurchefant can feel something in his heart ease. “Yes, my heart, I do.” And then his lips are captured in another kiss and he doesn’t protest. There has been enough speaking for the moment anyway.


End file.
